Empress of the Sun
by Astriea
Summary: Heir to the tiny and desolate Kingdom of Forks, Princess Isabella is shocked when the Crown Prince of the Golden Empire asks for her hand. Thrust into a world of slippery politics, power and betrayal, Bella must rise to the role of Empress with her new husband at her side, while war looms on the horizon and the dangers of falling love are clear.
1. The Golden Prince

21 - Published: 12-30-12 - Updated: 03-16-13id:8852567

**Empress of the Sun**

**Okay, I'm indulging my love of medieval fantasy with this AU fic, and I hope my readers enjoy it as much as I do. Before I begin, a few notes:**

**This fic has no definite historical period counterpart, so I may be mixing a few things from different time periods in here. Due to that, while nobility could be married as young as twelve or thirteen in medieval periods, I'm raising the standard marriage age in this fic to fifteen or sixteen (let's say for birthing purposes, as very young mothers did not tend to do well when giving birth in those times). However, there will be cases where people younger than that may be betrothed or married, but not have it consummated until they are older, which did happen occasionally when there was a need for a marriage but one or both participants were deemed too young.**

**The fic is set in a completely fictional land, so I claim the right of occasionally fudging things such as titles under the fact that people may be ranked differently here. Just to make it clear, so that's there no confusion early in the fic, children of emperors and empresses are ranked as high princes/princesses, whereas the children of kings and queens are simply princes or princesses, an idea that I'm borrowing from the titles of the Russian Tsars – the titles of their daughters were translated as 'grand duchess', but would more accurately be 'grand princess', as they were of a higher rank than the daughters of kings and queens. In the case of Edward, as his mother had a royal title in her own right, he is officially addressed as "Your Royal and Imperial Majesty" instead of just "Imperial Majesty" (a bit of a mouthful, but it's a title used in real life as well). In private, his servants address him as either Your Highness/Majesty, purely because of authorial fiat in that I find writing gets very stilted when using such long titles for informal occasions.**

**And, finally, I do not own the characters, as they are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is being made from this fic, and no infringement is intended.**

_Edward_

It was said that the sun itself mourned whenever its Emperor died, and would refuse to show itself in its full glory until its new ruler was crowned. Yet as I stared through the ornate glass window, watching as the gleaming coffins of my mother and father were borne away with their long procession, on their long journey to the crypt where the sovereigns of our empire and their consorts had been laid to rest for hundreds of years, I could not help but notice how the sunshine shone on the gilded handles of my parents' coffins, making a mockery out of the grief I was doing my best not to show. I glared at the sky, wishing that it would turn grey and shower the procession with rain - a childish wish, perhaps, but one I felt free to express as I stood there, watching my parents on their final journey.

It was not right. My father should still be on his throne, the heavy crown of the Empire of the Sun still resting on his brow. And I – I should still be wearing the white gold crown of the Crown Prince, the heir that had years to come to the throne, the son that had never imagined that he might lose one of his parents so soon, the child that would never sit on a throne whilst his parents' bones lay cold under the marble floor of St. Sasha's Chapel.

Angrily, I rubbed my eyes, hoping that my companions would not notice. My brother and sister were riding at the head of the funeral procession, but the Emperor never attended such ceremonies. The imperial person being so close to that of the dead was said to invite bad luck and ruin on their reign, and so, even though I had not yet been crowned, I was left to watch the procession from an upstairs window in the palace. The last time I had seen my parents, it had been at my father's bedside, listening to him gasp out his last words as his grip on my hand slackened. He had never been strong, my father, and when the news came that the summer fever afflicting him had already taken the empress, he seemed to lose all will to fight it. No sooner had his eyes drifted shut than I was pulled away from him, urged out of the room before my closeness to his corpse could taint my future reign.

_My reign._ The words sounded heavy in my head, and I leaned against the glass, welcoming the coolness as a distraction against the turmoil of my thoughts. When I was younger, I never thought that I would take the Golden Throne. That responsibility was to have been laid at Emmett's feet, while I was to have been a scholar, studying at the greatest of our universities, and perhaps an ambassador to the other kingdoms. But I had not been at my studies for more than a year when Emmett caught sight of the Princess Rosalie, heir to the fiercely independent kingdom of Hale. They had fought tirelessly against any attempted invader, and refused to have Hale become part of the Empire of the Sun when Rosalie's father died. Instead, Emmett had given up his right to the throne, and now, while he rode alongside my father's coffin with Rosalie, I was left to take up the heavy burden instead.

"Are you well, Your Highness? You have been glaring at that window for seven minutes now – did it offend you?"

I tore my gaze away from the glass, embarrassed that any resentment of Emmett might be shown on my face. The speaker smiled gently at me, his pale green robe the only sign of colour against the sea of mourning black that I had been accustomed to since my parents' death. Master Carlisle, the imperial physician, had long been a friend of my father, and I knew that he had worked tirelessly, if hopelessly, against the illness that had taken his life. His wife, the Lady Esme, sat in a corner, her sweet face filled with concern as she looked up at me, waiting for an answer.

"No, Carlisle. Forgive me – my thoughts have been…distracted of late."

"Do not be foolish, your highness," Lady Esme reprimanded as she laid aside the embroidery she had been working at and folded her hands in her lap. "The loss of your father is a wound to the entire empire, and the tears we shed for his loss will never truly heal the grief that has been left since his loss. But even so, the loss of a father must strike just as hard…as well as that of a mother."

I nodded, watching as the lamplight gleamed off of the golden threads worked among the black silk of her mourning gown, signifying that she grieved for an emperor. The entire court had been swathed in similar fabric since my father's death was announced, but few had chosen to wear the string of pearls that Lady Esme wore, the accepted mourning display for the empress-consort. My mother's death had been overshadowed in the mourning for my father, but Lady Esme had been a close friend as well as one of Mother's numerous ladies-in-waiting. It had been she who dressed my mother's body in the gold silk gown, arranged her hair and daubed the oil on her hands, so that Mother would still appear the youthful and beautiful Empress even as she was carried to her tomb.

Carlisle came to stand behind me, his face reflected in the polished glass of the window as we both watched the funeral procession snake its way through the palace gates, towards the chapel where the bodies would be buried. "Esme speaks the truth. There is no shame in mourning for a father, and certainly none in grieving for an emperor. Your sister weeps freely as she rides – let yourself do the same. There are none who would judge you."

I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter even to my ears. "None to judge me? I find it strange that you would say that, Carlisle, when the ambassador for the Volturi Empire waits to be received. Unless you would have me believe that the snake has sheathed its fangs with the loss of its enemy."

Carlise's face turned grim. "No, your highness. Emperor Aro was your father's enemy, and your grandfather's before that, and his hatred outlived them both. He has not forgotten the defeat your grandfather inflicted on him…nor has he set aside his grudge over what he sees your father's last insult."

I ran a hand through my hair, thankful that, for now at least, I had no crown to bear. "Surely he did not believe that Father would allow Alice to wed the High Prince Alec? The rumours about he and his twin-"

"Are just those – rumours", Carlisle said firmly. Before his appointment as the imperial physician, he had spent time in the Volturi Empire, studying at their universities and even being received at the Volturi court. Few in my imperial court would know the rulers of the Volturi as well as he did, so I held my tongue and listened. "No matter how distasteful the mutterings, you know as well as I that a marriage between the two empires would bring stability to all the land-"

"Or plunge it into greater war," I said bluntly, shaking my head. "Great-Aunt Sulpicia's marriage to Aro bought Grandfather a truce with him, but now each and every one of his children has a claim to the Golden Throne after myself and Alice, and they've been eyeing it hungrily since Grandfather's death. Any closer ties, and they'll be using the children of that marriage as figures for rebellion at the first sign of any discontent in my reign. I can't let that happen, Carlisle."

Carlisle inclined his head in acknowledgment of my words, but Lady Esme still looked troubled. "A war between the two empires is the last thing that anyone in your court would want, Your Highness – but High Princess Chelsea does have a valid claim to the Golden Throne, as do all of her siblings, nephews and nieces. With Prince Emmett's abdication, you and High Princess Alice are all that stands against their quest for the throne."

Her unstated meaning rang clear in the air, and I folded my arms, wishing I did not feel so wretchedly tired. "You wish for me to take a wife."

She pursed her lips, glancing at Carlisle. "The whole court has longed for it, your highness, since your brother refused the throne. Your father had ensured an heir in the form of Prince Emmett before your grandfather died, and he was crowned alongside your mother, at the start of a glorious reign. High Princess Alice is unmarried, and you yourself have no heirs. The both of you should be moving to secure your line, and the common people whisper that there should be a new empress crowned with the Golden Emperor, if only because they remember how trade improved when your parents' marriage sealed an alliance between the empire and the Kingdom of Masen. And the Volturi ambassador appearing at such a time…They will want to test your weaknesses, but Emperor Aro has six daughters and any number of granddaughters that he would gladly see on a throne besides you. You may be sure of having one offered…and I fear what excuses may have to be offered so that we do not offend them in your refusal."

She was right, of course. I imagined the portraits that would be brought forth by the ambassador, the numerous visages that would be unveiled before me. All would be beautiful, with porcelain skin and the dark eyes that the Volturi imperial family was famous for, and all of those lovely dark eyes would have a greedy glint in them at the thought of Emperor Aro's grandchild or great-grandchild being crowned the Golden Emperor. I had no intention of allowing any such thing, and that left me with only one option.

I would have to choose a bride of my own, a new empress who would be crowned beside me and provide me with children who could secure the throne against the Volturi Empire. Truly, an unromantic aspiration that went against the ideal of love that was so extolled in songs and stories, but I had no choice. I would not allow any of the Volturi family to sit on the throne my grandfather and father had worked so hard to safeguard from them.

A wife. An empress. Many women had been offered for my hand over the years, and now that I was soon to ascend the imperial throne, I knew that there would be many more. But which one would I choose?

Seeing my discomfort, Lady Esme rose to her feet, smoothing down her gown. "Ambassador Eleazar is here to pay his respects, your Highness. Would you have us call him in?"

I nodded, giving the window one last glance. "Instruct him to gather the offers. It's time I choose a bride."

* * *

"Are you sure about this, your Highness?" Eleazar asked, his gaze flickering from myself to the ten portraits that had been brought before me, hung on stands and draped in white silk, ready for me to order their reveal. I had no intention, however, of doing so by myself – I would be bringing a stranger into my family, and I wanted them here, to advise and, if necessary, console me over the choice that I had to make.

"I am sure, Eleazar. These are, after all, your choices, and I trust in you to steer me correctly in this, as you did so for my father on so many occasions."

Eleazar nodded, and I saw a hint of pride in his expression. He had served as my father's ambassador to the different kingdoms for many years, and so had had chances to meet all of the women being presented to me as future brides. Having led a cloistered life before Emmett's abdication, I had not met any, and so would have to rely on his and my family's judgement on who would make a good empress.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and I nodded for the guards to allow them in. First stepped two heralds, one's livery displaying a crowned rose, the symbol of the Kingdom of Hale, while the other wore my family's crest, a golden sun against a white sky. They dropped to their knees, and the second announced, "Presenting her Royal and Imperial Highness, the Flower of the Golden Empire, the Pearl of the Kingdom of Masen, His Highness' Serene and Most Beloved Sister, the High Princess Alice!"

The first herald had shorter titles to announce, but he made up for it in the strength of his voice. "Pre_sent_ing her Royal Highness, the Princess Rosalie of Hale, and his Royal Highness, Prince Emmett, Duke of McCarthy!"

No sooner had he finished speaking when a small figure bounding into the room, almost knocking me off my feet as she embraced me. "Edward, forgive me. I should have come sooner-"

I shook my head, gently untangling Alice's arms from around me as Rosalie swept into the room, Emmett following as he tried to avoid stepping on the long train of her gown. Even when attending a funeral, my sister-in-law had to be the most beautiful woman present, and her black satin gown was covered in delicate gold embroidery and gleaming pearls, none of which could match the shine of her golden hair, caught up in a hairnet decorated with black pearls. Despite his plainer manner of dress, Emmett's hulking figure carried such a presence that none could doubt that he was the son of an Emperor, even if he had given up his crown. I smiled sadly at him from over Alice's head, and he nodded, glancing awkwardly to one side. Emmett had never dealt with grief outwardly, and I knew that it would be some time before he could bring himself to speak of our lost parents.

_But at least he was given the chance to say goodbye, _a resentful whisper hissed in my mind. I ignored it, choosing to greet Rosalie in the formal style that her station demanded as Eleazar paced in front of the covered portraits. When she saw them, Alice put her hands on her hips, recognising the shape from the numerous times Father had presented her with one in the hopes that she would agree to a marriage. "I hope those are not all offers for my hand, brother. I think that even the High Princess Chelsea would deem ten husbands to be too extravagant, and Lord knows, I've no desire to imitate _her_."

I laughed, glad to find that even now, Alice could still inspire merriment in me. "As glad as I would be if you would find even one man who could prove satisfactory as a husband for you, sister, they are not for you. It seems that a wife must be chosen, and there are many offers already at hand. Would you help me decide on them?"

Emmett snorted. "About time! You never even took a girl to bed, not even Lady Tanya-"

"I have no desire to speak of the Lady Tanya now," I said firmly, hoping he did not notice my blush. "Ten choices, and we need to make them before I meet with the Volturi ambassador, so may we begin?"

Excitedly, Alice practically bounced into the seat drawn out for her, while Emmett and Rosalie settled themselves down in a more sedate manner. Once I had been seated - last, which was something that would no longer be allowed once I became Emperor - Eleazar cleared his throat and began.

"As I informed his Imperial Majesty before...before his illness, there are currently thirty-six offers for the hand of your Highness. In the interests of time, we rejected the twelve offers that were under the age of fifteen, while those aged beyond thirty were discounted at your Highness's own insistence. That left us with seventeen offers, seven of which came from the Volturi Empire. They have offered you your pick of the High Princess Renata, High Princess Heidi, High Princess Jane, Princess Gianna, Princess Bianca, and Princess Corin."

Alice scowled. "I don't want to have any of them in my family. Besides, can you imagine the wedding colours? Red and black with white and gold - you wouldn't know if you were at a wedding or a funeral."

I nodded, gesturing for Eleazar to continue. He didn't look surprised by our dismissal of any Volturi brides, instead going to the first of the covered portraits. "Of the ten who remain, the first is her Grace, Lady Jessica, the Duchess of Mallory." He pulled away the cloth to reveal the portrait of a girl dressed in an elaborate gown, her hair an artfully arranged display of brown curls. "The Duchess is from the Kingdom of Masen, your Highness, and her family has long since been a loyal force to your uncle, the King - it would please him, and indeed, all of Masen, for there to be closer links between the realm of your father and your mother-"

But though I had preferred my own company before taking the crown, I had not been blind to gossip, and I knew full well why my uncle, King Joham, would offer this girl when my father had already refused his three daughters. "While I am keen for our good relationship with Masen to continue, the sanctity of the Empress's person may not be called into question - and I will not have a bastard cousin of mine on the throne next to me."

Eleazar nodded, clearly expecting nothing different. He went to the next portrait, drawing back the silk to reveal a blonde girl with cold grey eyes that matched her gown. "Princess Lauren, cousin to her Royal Highness, Princess Rosalie-"

"Do not choose her, Edward," Rosalie said, shocking everyone. She took in our surprise with a raised eyebrow, and then shrugged, the pearls on her gown gleaming with the movement. "Father did not tell me about this offer. If he had, and wished for me to pursue it, then I would try to impart her character in the best of terms, but as he did not...Lauren is a crass, spiteful girl, and one who did not care for her education. As a princess, one who is unlikely to succeed to the throne, these flaws may be overlooked, however annoying they are for her family. But for the Empress-Consort of the Empire of the Sun? She can play the court politics I suppose, but she is too petty and too limited to be of any use to you in that area. As the Princess of Hale and her cousin, I would ask you to accept her, but as your sister-in-law and your friend, I would strongly advise you to choose another."

I smiled gratefully at her. "Your advice is always valued, Rosalie. Eleazar, please continue."

But though portrait after portrait was unveiled, we seemed to get nowhere. I was already acquainted with Lady Kate and Lady Irina, but my experience with Lady Tanya had me discarding the two noblewomen very quickly. Rebecca Black, Duchess of La Push seemed an attractive choice until Alice informed me that she had had a lover for years that she would not give up even if we wed, and her sister Rachel was one of the rare female scholars who attained recognition the Grand University - too sweet a prize for her to forego her education, despite the benefits of an imperial alliance. To my displeasure, Joham had again offered me the hands of Princess Serena and Princess Jennifer, to both of whom I gave a firm _no_. I considered Lady Angela, a quiet noblewoman of the imperial court, but I knew that Sir Benjamin, a good friend, intended to ask for her hand at the Winter festival, and I had no desire to cause either of them any unhappiness by selecting her as a bride.

That left just one portrait, sitting forlornly under its white cover. By this point, I was beginning to despair of finding a suitable bride, wondering if I had perhaps been too hasty in discounting the older brides. Thirty was not too old to bear a child, after all, and some of them had been married before and borne children - proof of fertility might in fact be more valuable than youth in this instance. So caught up was I in pondering this that I barely noticed when Eleazar took away the covering - but then I saw the portrait's subject, and all else fell away.

It was a young woman - a girl, really - garbed in a cloudy blue dress, with a simple silver coronet in her hair. Her eyes were large, and a soft brown that seemed only a shade lighter than the soft brown waves of hair that fell to her waist. A pretty girl - no, a _beautiful_ girl. But it was her expression that caught me, as surely as it must have captivated the painter. Her eyes were downcast, filled with a strange sort of melancholy but there was a sweetness to her face that left me breathless as I looked at her.

Emmett had no such difficulty. "Which one's this?"

"Her Royal Highness, the Princess Isabella of Forks. The only daughter of King Charles, and his wife, the Queen Renee."

"Renee of Phoenix?" Alice asked, her eyes wide. "The princess they sang of in '_The Golden Heart'?"_

_"_There were many songs sung of Queen Renee's beauty, your Highness. _'The Golden Heart' _was perhaps the most famous, but she inspired many artists before she was so tragically taken in a hunting disaster."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Yes, but the songs sang of Renee's _captivating _blue eyes and her _glorious _golden hair - and her graceful movements, not that that saved her in her hunt. This girl has none of those things."

"Perhaps she has not her mother's features, but she is comely enough, I think - and accomplished too. She is said to be excellent at needlework, devoted to her studies, and she is greatly beloved by her father's people for her gentle heart. You could do far worse for a wife, your Highness."

"She sounds lovely, Edward," Alice breathed, staring at the painting. "A far better choice than Jessica or Serena - King Charles's father was a loyal ally in Grandfather's war against Aro. If there's a possibility of war, then we should be solidifying our alliances - and you _must _let me help with the planning, Edward, for you know that you have no skill whatsoever in-"

Emmett frowned. "Forks is tiny, though. If you're looking to strengthen an alliance, then I hate to say it, but you're probably better off with Jessica or Serena-"

"No, Emmett." Of course, he could be forgiven for assuming as such - he had never taken to studying history well, certainly not as I had. "Forks is small, but they are fierce fighters, and what's more, it sits between the northern reaches of both the Volturi's empire and our own. There were attempts to conquer it for the use of its location, but King Geoffrey fought them off and made the alliance with Grandfather. Certainly, it's no small thing to consider if we're trying to prevent a war."

Eleazar frowned thoughtfully. "I believe that several of the Volturi heirs have already asked for her hand. Certainly, Aro would not mind adding Forks to his empire - Isabella is King Charles's only child. When he dies, she will inherit the the entire kingdom, and Forks will join with her husband's lands when both of them have passed on and given it over to their children."

Expanding the Empire of the Sun without the need to spill a single drop of blood - truly, that would be an excellent start to my reign. But even as I gave my reply, I knew that there was more to my choice than that. The girl in the portrait had entranced me, with simply the look of her eyes. It was foolish and shallow of me - love matches were rare among those of our rank, and to act on base emotions such as desire could lead an empire to ruin - but I knew that this girl, who shone among the other portraits like a pearl against sand, was the only choice I could bring myself to make.

"Send a messenger to King Charles. I will wed the Princess Isabella."

**Enjoy it? Thought it was rubbish? Either way, feel free to tell me in a review!**


	2. The Swan Princess

**Empress of the Sun**

**I do not own the characters, as they are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is being made from this fic, and no infringement is intended.**

**Note: I am sort of fudging the religious aspect of this - religion played a major role in medieval Europe, and taking it away messes up a helluva lot of structure (while I am shamelessly mixing lots of stuff from different time periods into this, the medieval period forms the backbone of this fic). For that purpose, I have just pretty much added in a single church with mangled rankings to avoid all the religious headache that medieval Europe enjoyed (especially when the Tudor dynasty was involved). It's not really that important in the grand scheme of the fic, but I thought it was probably something I should clarify early on. Now, onto the story!**

Jacob smirked as he faced me, his dark eyes dancing with mirth. "Ready, Bella?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, tensing my legs. "We may begin, Clapp."

My teacher spun around, gesturing at the musician in the corner. "Well? What are you waiting for? Her Royal Highness commands you to play!"

Hastily, the man began playing his fiddle, the notes fast and strangely furious to my ears. Part of me quailed at the thought, but I steeled myself, determined to see it through. Clapp eyed my stance for a moment, before lifting his hand and beginning the lesson. "And step forward and _left, _and right and back, and spin-"

Jacob's movements were like a ripple of water as he glided into the dance, his merriment never faltering as he swept through Clapp's instructions. I mirrored his steps, my body a lithe and graceful testament to the crest of my family, a swan floating on the polished oak floor as easily as moonlit water-

I let out a pained "Oooff!" as my feet collided with one another and I crashed to the floor with a thump. To Jacob's credit, he held in his snickering as he extended his hand to help me to my feet, but Clapp stomped his foot, looking incensed.

"No, no, NO! We have talked of this, your Highness! A princess in dance must be as light as the falling snow, as quick as the mountain stream and as elegant as the royal swan! Time and time again I have told you - let the dance guide your body, not master it!"

"I think that her Royal Highness's body has already been thoroughly mastered today," Sir Jasper said dryly from his post by the door. "Her suitors should beware; Lord Floor surely has her heart from all the time she has rushed to meet him."

I drew myself up, cursing my pale skin which flushed so easily. An imperious voice rather lost its effectiveness when the speaker was as crimson as Father Banner's robes. "It is ill done for a knight to speak to a lady in such a fashion, especially when she is his sovereign princess. I should have you punished for your disrespect, Sir Jasper."

Jacob laughed. "But Your Highness, we are your ordained knights, sworn to protect your body with our blades, and your mind with our wit. How can you can punish Sir Jasper, when he only wishes to fulfil his sacred duty in speaking to you thus?"

Lady Leah snorted from the corner that she had been banished to by my dance master after refusing to remove her armour and join me in my lessons. I would have reprimanded his presumption in ordering around my sworn knights had I not feared for his life when Leah started glowering in his direction. "Being a sworn knight does not save you from being punished when your charge feels you have overstepped your bounds. Remember His Majesty, King Edgar - how did he dispose of the knight who laughed at him? A dip in Lake Olympia in the depths of winter?"

I shook my head, reaching up to secure the pins that were keeping my hair in at least a partially respectable style. "Nay, that was the lord who came begging to him to have the corpses removed from a town's spring after he had them hung there as an example. Poisoned the water, but sent an effective message, or so I am told. The knight who laughed at King Edgar was Sir Oliver, his sworn brother since Edgar was eleven. The court praised him for the silver tongue that mocked the king, so Edgar had molten silver poured down his throat."

Lady Leah tossed a smile that was all teeth in Sir Jasper's direction. "I suppose that none laughed at him after that."

"Yes, but he ended up smothered in his own bed," I reminded her, wincing as the bruises that were no doubt already forming on my body made themselves known. "Besides, I think that my father would be concerned if I began to imitate the king that had his own father's head speared on the castle walls."

"His Majesty does have enough to be concerned with today," Jacob agreed as he glanced at the door. "Being trapped with the imperial ambassador all morning...one must wonder if he would not prefer having his head hung as a trophy."

Leah scowled. "The imperial ambassador? I thought we had sent him off to lick his wounds-"

"Not the Volterra ambassador! The Empire of the Sun sent a new emissary; they arrived only three days ago. Of course, my lady would have known this if she had not been so intent on training in the courtyard to avenge her defeat in our last spar..."

Leah's hand was on the hilt of her sword as she glared at Jacob. "If it is defeat you would speak of, then let us go to the courtyard now - I could thrash you in any battle and you _know_ it-"

"I think my dancing is done for the day," I said hastily, barely pausing to acknowledge the dancing master's bow before I was hurrying out of the room. My three knights had no choice but to follow, though Leah was still glowering at Jacob when she caught up to me. "That win _would_ have been mine if you had not distracted me."

"It does not suit you to be the bitter loser, Leah. I merely pointed out the ambassador for the Volturi had come to watch us at our spar. Is it my fault that you cannot turn your back on a single man from that empire?"

"No sane warrior would!" Leah snapped, her eyes flickering over to me. "He had no business trying to watch us - doubtless he was trying to see the weaknesses of the princess's sworn guards. I would not lower myself to show those worms a jot of my skills unless I could be sure that they would not live to speak of it."

"She is right, you know," Sir Jasper said thoughtfully as he strode at my left. "I certainly did not enjoy having one of those creatures walking through the castle, nor did I appreciate his questions about you, Your Highness. It...was not proper."

"He was seeking my hand for the High Prince Alec," I reminded him, although truthfully I too had felt rather unsettled by the ambassador's cold, assessing gaze on me when we dined together at one of my father's speeches. "It was only natural that His Imperial Majesty would wish to know of the princess who could be his son's bride."

Jacob snorted. "As if the King would so cheaply bargain away the hand of the future Queen of Forks. Are they truly so arrogant that they thought we would be grateful for having a _boy_ offered to be Bella's King Consort?"

Jasper raised an eyebrow. "You speak as if his age was the biggest deterrent against the match, Jacob."

I glanced at him warily. "It does not become you to speak of...rumours, Sir Jasper. Especially when it comes to the reputation of a High Prince..."

"Reputation? Bella, King Charlie outright refused to have you wed to any of Aro's sons - do you think that he would baulk at a marriage for you based on a few malicious whispers? If half of what they say about High Prince Alec and his siblings are true then you would be better off cloistered away in a nunnery than married to that filth. None of them are worthy of you, and certainly not of Forks."

"Especially given how little they understand it," Jacob muttered, nudging Leah. "To question our princess's chastity because she sleeps with two men at her side..."

"A sworn knight does not abandon his charge for a single moment," I said indignantly, the memory of the ambassador's insinuations still rankling. "Do they think that an assassin or abductor would hesitate for a moment if I was asleep?"

"No - because they'd be behind any attempts to have you stolen or killed," Jacob said easily, ignoring my reproachful stare at his accusation. "For all that they have longed to vanquish our culture, they do understand at least a little of it - they know that a sworn knight is forbidden from lying with their charge in any such manner, just as they know that Leah, Jasper and I could not have laid a finger on you without your royal father inflicting such punishments as to have King Edgar quaking in his boots. No, the reason they hint at such things is that they know that no Volturi knife can get past three of the best knights Forks has to offer, just as they know that even if your father lost all sense and wed you to one of Aro's whelps, it would not prevent us from tearing the cur limb from limb when he raised a hand against you."

"Well, there is hardly a need to speak of it now," I said firmly, still unsure of speaking about the heirs to the Volturi Empire in such a fashion. "My father has refused them, and the Empire of the Sun will not tolerate having the grandchild of Emperor Aro on the throne of Forks. Now then, if you do not mind, I wish to rest now - there will no doubt be a feast thrown for the ambassador's sake, and I have no desire to be presented to them when I am so sore that I will not be able to walk."

Jacob snorted at my exaggeration, but the four of us returned to my chambers, where I almost ended up ordering Jasper to sit on Leah to prevent her from attacking Jacob when the question of who was the most skilled came up again. Briefly, I spared a thought for my father - whatever the imperial's ambassador's reason for arriving, such meetings tended to be long and dreary. I could only hope that they had not brought any serious news.

* * *

I was my father's only heir, and I had been raised to perform many of the duties that normally fell to the Queen, such as overseeing the royal households, settling disputes between vassals of our kingdom, and meeting with ambassadors from other lands. Knowing that I would most likely be required to do the same for the Golden Empire's envoy, I had chosen to dress in a sweeping dark blue gown with silver embellishments, the colours of Forks. The gown was cut in the Northern style, naturally, with my hair arranged in an elaborate coif rather than hidden under a more traditional gable hood that would disguise its colour. Ambassadors who came to see the daughter of Queen Renee generally expected to see a mirror image of my mother, and I had no desire to play into that role.

Still, I was surprised when I received a summons from my father. Normally, I would be introduced to the ambassador at the feasting, where he would see me sit among my father's lords and ladies and know me to be the true heir of Forks. There had concerns raised from the southern kingdoms about my ability to rule Forks in my own right. The thought was galling - as a daughter of the House of Swan, Forks was rightfully mine and always would remain so - but better to show them that then tell them, as my father often said. That I would appear before the ambassador before then was...odd, and I was not quite sure what to make of it.

Still, I was the princess of Forks, and I was determined to be seen as such. Jacob, Jasper and Leah accompanied me as usual, their armour polished to a bright shine although they had left their usual heavy swords - none but the monarch's own guards could bring weapons into the throne room. Before me, the traditional herald marched ahead to proclaim my arrival.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness, the Princess Isabella!"

_Isabella._ I was only called that in these formal occasions, when there were foreign lands to impress with the regal bearing of Forks' princess. Even to the common serfs of our kingdom, I was known as the Princess Bella, the daughter of King Charlie and his dear lost wife, the sweet Queen Renee. A monarch of Forks was regarded as the father or mother of the entirety of our people, and we had long viewed the affectionate terms by which our people called as an acceptable variant on that, so long as they included our titles and thus acknowledged our rule. It appeared that the southern kingdoms did so differently, though I could not fathom why. It was far better in my opinion to be loved rather than feared, and there was proof in our people's affection by the names that they called us.

Pushing that thought aside, I sank into a deep curtsey as soon as I entered the room, covertly glancing around as I did so. My father was seated on his carved throne, flanked by Lady Sue and Lord Harry. As the one remaining active sworn knight left to my father, Lady Sue's sword hung from her belt, her hair braided around her head in preparation for battle. Lord William, or Billy as he had always been known to me, had not served as an active knight since a fall in a tournament had left him crippled, but his counsel was always valued and so he sat in a lower chair by the throne. He bowed his head at my entrance, while my father gestured for me to rise. "Daughter of mine. You are well?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," I smiled, trying not to stare at the woman who stood near to the throne. She was tall, dressed in a black and gold gown, with olive skin and curling dark brown hair. Certainly, she was a beautiful woman, and unlike the Volturi ambassador, her smile was kind as she looked at me. I felt some of the tension within me calm. Whatever this meeting was about, the matter could not be so serious if she was so at ease here, in the heart of our kingdom.

"You see her now, Lady Carmen - is she as you expected?"

The woman inclined her head. "The painter captured your daughter's beauty as best as he could, Your Majesty, but I fear that the portrait could not capture the loveliness I see before me. Truly, she is the jewel in the crown of Forks."

I kept the smile on my face, although I felt a stir of uneasiness. My portrait? I recalled having one painted about a year previously, with a surly, irritable painter who snapped whenever I fidgeted, but I had not known that it had been sent to the Empire of the Sun. Beside me, Jacob and Leah were exchanging glances, but I did not know what they could be thinking of. What had the portrait to do with this meeting?

Lady Carmen saw my conclusion, and the look in her eyes softened. "Ah, forgive me, Your Highness. I come in the name of High Prince Edward, soon to be the Golden Emperor of the Empire of the Sun. You may have heard of his father's passing."

Of course I had - the death of a monarch was quickly heard around all of the kingdoms, and that went doubly for one of the large and powerful Golden Empire. But this was a game that had to be played, so I lowered my eyes. "News was brought to us of Emperor Edward's passing, my lady, and we grieved, as did all of the kingdoms. He was a good and kind emperor, and the world is darker with his loss."

Lady Carmen sighed. "That it is, although we hope it to brighten with the High Prince's ascension. But, Your Highness, he currently stands alone, without a wife, and so the Empire of the Sun stands without an empress. And we are loathe to leave the throne beside his Imperial Majesty's empty."

Her meaning hit me like an arrow fired from the castle wall.

Involuntarily, I looked up at my father. His face was stern, but there was a hint of hope within it as well. Empress Consort of the Empire of the Sun. A lofty title, and the possibilities it would bring Forks were endless. My grandfather, King Geoffrey, had fought alongside the newly deceased emperor's father, but the alliance was tenuous at best, and the fear of what would happen if the Volturi made a hostile move was something that had often been discussed in my father's councils, especially after his rejection of High Prince Alec's petition for my hand. This marriage would cement the alliance, and safeguard my people.

"It is a great honour," Lady Sue said quietly, ignoring the surprised look of Lady Carmen that any knight would dare to speak before the king. The southern courts did not have the bond of sworn knighthood, preferring pomp and ceremony over blood-oaths and a devotion undying. "But your choice, Your Highness, always."

I stared at my father, and I saw in his face the truth of the situation. He would never force me into a match I despised, loving his only child too much to push her into what was mandatory for other royal heirs. And it was because of that love he bore me, the love that had inspired the fierce devotion in myself towards my father and king, who ranked second only to God in my heart, that I gave my answer.

I did not know High Prince Edward. I had never been to the lands of the Empire of the Sun. Becoming its Empress-Consort would mean leaving behind all that I knew, all that I loved, perhaps forever. But for my people...The monarchs of Forks did not shrink from their duty, and nor could I.

And so, when Lady Carmen asked the inevitable question, what could I say but "Yes"?

* * *

But it was not that simple.

"Forks cannot be ceded to the Empire," my father told Lord Harry, his determination clear in his voice. "It has always been a separate nation, and that is how it will stay. Bella may retain her title, but she will not be the Empress-Consort of _this_ kingdom."

Sitting in the corner, my guards seeming to be the only people who noticed I was there, I listened as my future was hammered out, back and forth between my father and the imperial ambassadors. I was to be styled _Her Royal and Imperial Majesty_, Empress-Consort of the Empire of the Sun and Queen of Forks, while my husband-to-be would be the Emperor and King-Consort. The ambassadors bristled endlessly over that one, demanded and cajoling, but my father would not bend on this. The North was proud, the North was cold, and it would not be merely a vassal to the vast empire that my betrothed would rule. Separate but together - I hoped it was not an omen for my marriage. I was ready to do my duty, no matter how unpleasant the task, but I did hope for at least friendship with High Prince Edward once we were wed. Would he begrudge me a single kingdom, when he already ruled over such vast lands that only the Volturi could hope to rival him?

My new status was only the beginning of many changes. The Empire of the Sun sent gifts, of silks and satins and jewels without number, so radiant that even I was stunned when my maids lifted them out of the silk-lined trunks to show me. Presents from his Royal and Imperial Majesty, I was told, as thanks for my acceptance of his suit and a tribute to my own wondrous beauty, but I heard the grumbling from my maids. They whispered how the ambassadors had apparently found my own clothing to be unfitting for a future empress, that I was to be garbed in luxurious clothing that completely hid my northern heritage, so that when I was wed and crowned, the imperial court could forget that I was from such a barbarous kingdom.

The gossip upset me, but I did not have them punished - more likely than not, there was a grain of truth in the matter. Certainly, when my personal tailor, courtesy of my future husband, took charge of the materials, he cut them in the southern-style, with golds and whites predominant in the colours scheme - although I was relieved to notice that someone had at least placed a large amount of blues and silvers among them as well. I had to steel myself, I thought, late at night, when not even Jacob's snoring could distract me from my anxiety. No matter how large and wealthy the Empire of the Sun was, the Kingdom of Forks was older, with a royal line that stretched back through the centuries. No matter what my garb was, I would not be arriving to the city of Cullen as a beggar in rags, but as a royal in my own right, and none could take that from me.

Still, it appeared that I was too optimistic in my thoughts, for a month before I was to set out for Cullen, my father summoned my grandmother to attend me.

Marie, Dowager Duchess of Phoenix. The name struck terror in all who heard it, and certainly I could not quite suppress my trembling when I heard the news. A lowly countess, she had somehow risen to the wife of the Duke of Phoenix, and before succeeding in wedding her daughter to King Charles of Forks. One did not rise so high without a will of iron, and my grandmother had a venomous tongue to match, with a mind that age had failed to dull. Yet my father had decreed that there was much I had to learn if I was to make a fitting empress, and my grandmother had been duelling with the southern courts before my father was even born.

She came in great ceremony, carried in a litter drawn by two gleaming black horses, with the gold and scarlet phoenix embroidered on the heavy curtains, while a procession of many servants, guards, grooms, companions and much more were forced to troop over the frost-bitten ground on foot or on horseback. I was standing in the courtyard with my own retinue, ready to receive her, and I had to admit some shock when I saw the figure reclining in the litter. She had grown frailer, her skin nearly translucent and her white hair wispy beneath its hood, her body so swaddled in furs that I almost could not see how thin her frame had become. Still, her pale eyes glittered with the malicious intelligence that had made her such a ruthless ally in southern politics, and she did not flinch as she was lifted from the litter and set down before me. I dropped hastily into a curtsy, only for her crackling voice to cut across me.

"Stop scraping girl, you're to be an empress! A fine marriage into a poor family, if you ask me - our heavenly Father knows, we need no more egoistical royalty with more beauty than sense in this family, but I suppose it can't be helped. I was ready to ride down and give your father a clout around the ear when I heard he was to wed you to the Volturi brat, but at least the man proved himself to have half a mind in the matter, which is a full mind more than what your mother received from _her_ father."

I blinked, rather caught out by the barrage. "I...I do not think that my father thought I was what High Prince Alec most needed in a bride..."

"Of course not. What that whelp needs is a birch rod across his buttocks, and a good reminder of who beat who in our little war game, not a royal bride to serve as his new whipping boy. But speaking of the Volturi so early in the morning is horrendous for the digestion, and you could certainly use more meat on your hips. Let us go inside for a meal, and be sure to have my wretched attendants housed properly. We have much work ahead of us."

* * *

The first thing Marie set about culling from my lifestyle was the informality I had enjoyed through my life. "Good gracious girl, the emperors were calling themselves _gods_ scarcely three centuries ago, and you think they'll let you be addressed as an equal by we who walk on the ground? No, _Your Majesty _is the closest you'll get to that, and that's in private, mind you - in public, you'll be _Her Royal and Imperial Majesty, Radiance of the Empire _along with whatever other flowery titles those insipid poets can cram in one breath. I assure you, you'll have enough whispers about you for your sworn knights without giving them more wood to burn you with. You may as well get used to it now, so you'll be _Your Royal Highness _to everyone until they drop that hideous mound of gold on your head and call you crowned."

My posture was pathetic, my dancing a travesty, my speech so ruinous that it would be a miracle if any in the refined south could decipher a word I spoke. Every moment I was not being prodded with pins by my tailor, I was spending in the dancing rooms, pouring over records of southern royalty, having my 'northern accent' constantly corrected, made to practice how to sit as to look perfectly elegant even at rest...It seemed endless, and I longed for the day when we would leave Forks, despite the wrench I felt at the thought of leaving the kingdom of my birth.

"You must not trust anyone," she told me one dark night as we sat sewing by candlelight. "The choice of a northern bride has incensed those within the Empire who wished for the High Prince to take an imperial noble to bride, and his uncle, King Joham, is apparently still pushing for Edward to take one of his cousins to bride - not to mention whatever that grubby worm of a Volturi emperor is plotting in retaliation. They will seek to use you, if not unseat you, and you must not give them a single opportunity. Do not isolate yourself with only your northerners - you must win over the court, and excluding them from your circles will build resentment that you can ill-afford - but do not forget that near-everyone you speak to will have an agenda, and it will most likely not benefit you."

"What of my husband?" I asked, shivering as a slight breeze stirred the candles' flames.

For a moment, Marie did not speak. When she did, her words were obviously chosen carefully. "The emperor chose you as his bride. Why, I cannot fathom, but he did, and he has stood firm against pleas for him to change your mind. He may be doing it for Forks' iron, for the cloth trade, to strengthen a military alliance or simply as an insult against one of his would-be brides, but whatever the reason, you cannot rely on it to always protect you. Win him over, bear his children as soon as possible - a boy would be best, but even a girl would at least prove your fertility and put one more block in Aro's quest for the Golden Throne. And speaking of gold, mind that you bear at least one child with those thrice-damned eyes of theirs - the blood grows weaker with every generation, I think, but they do harp on about it so. As an empress, you must be grand, untouchable, a paragon of all that they love about their royalty - but only to those you rule over. Show him respect as due to an emperor, for no doubt the brat will demand it, but be a loving wife, or at least convince him that you adore him, and you'll find things will get easier as time passes."

"Did you tell my mother that?" I asked quietly.

Marie raised an eyebrow, studying my face intently. "Your mother and father both fell in love so quickly that it was a wonder we got them to the church before Renee declared herself Charles's queen. If there's one good thing that can be said for your father - _one_ good thing - his loyalty is unmatched, and he holds to that love even now. Renee...Well, I'll make no bones about it; she inherited her grandfather's wisdom, which was to say that she had the brains of a baked turnip. She was surrounded with dozens of young courtiers twittering endlessly about her beauty, and she was fool enough to bask in it, though thankfully I was on hand to prevent her from any serious silliness. If there's one thing to be thankful to your father and myself for, it's that we between us managed to get half a brain into your head, and considering your other blood, that's no small achievement."

"Do you miss her?" I asked curiously. My mother had died when I was only a babe in arms, too small to have any real memory of the woman my father still mourned. The portrait hung in the Great Hall showed an astounding beauty with tumbling golden hair and eyes like sapphires, but rarely did my grandmother speak of her deceased child without a sting to the comment.

"Never you mind, child," she snapped, and if her voice was slightly gruffer than normal, well it was probably the cold air irritating her lungs. "Now get on with your sewing - we might as well have one thing for the emperor to be impressed with before you cripple him with the wedding dance."

* * *

Finally, the day arrived for us to leave. It had been decided that it would be a quicker journey by sea rather than attempting the mountainous passes that were daunting at the best of times, and so the royal party accompanied me down to the harbour, where one of our finest ships, the _Queen Renee _had been readied to sail me to my new home. The morning was cool, and so I wore a thick woollen dress of darkest blue, with a pale white mantle to protect from the cold. My family's colours. I wondered if I would have to put them away for good when I arrived as the High Prince's bride.

Marie was not the only guardian my father had chosen for me. Lord Harry had been sent by my father, to serve as my counsel until he was called back home, while there had never been a question of leaving Jacob, Jasper or Leah behind. There was a great deal of sadness for Billy and Lady Sue, not knowing when they might see their children again, but all of them had sworn their vows, and distance and family were no match for it. I did my best to remain composed when bidding my father farewell, and we both pretended not to notice the shimmer of tears in his eye when he turned his head away.

Sooner than I had liked, the farewells were finished, and I and my knights stood on the deck of the ship, resisting the urge to call out frantic goodbyes and well wishes as the ships carried us further away, farer and farer from home and towards my new life, where my husband and crown awaited.

**Just a point here - while cousin marriage is viewed as incest in many areas of the USA, it is seen more as unusual than forbidden in most other countries, and certainly in medieval times. Edward choosing not to take any of his cousins as a wife is more due to him not being able to stand any of them personally rather than genuine horror at the idea - it occurred to me that I should probably clear that up. Marie is hardly ever used in fandom, probably due to her early death, but the Twilight wiki describes her as "a difficult, bitter woman but hardworking and loyal" - just the sort of person Bella needs on her side right now ;). Also, I have a weakness for writing snarky old women, don't know why. In the next chapter, Edward and Bella will finally meet - until then, please review!**


	3. The Shining City

**Empress of the Sun**

**Empress of the Sun**

**I do not own the characters, as they are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No profit is being made from this fic, and no infringement is intended.**

**_Bella:_**

The sea had always been important to my people, if only for what it brought us. The land of Forks, ravaged as it was by bitter winters and endless rain, often relied on the trade brought by our ships from distant lands. How many times had I visited the harbour to give my blessing to a newly made vessel, or prayed for their voyages to be short and bountiful or sewed garments for the widows and orphans of shipwrecks? So many times that I could scarcely recall a quarter of them in my mind - but despite all of that experience, I had never actually been on a ship before in my life.

The _Queen Renee_ was beautiful, there was no doubt about that; all gilded wood and moulded gold, the figurehead a smiling maiden with an ornate crown. The swan emblem of my family was embroidered onto the sails in neat, even stitching, stark white against the blue, the wings arching proudly. I looked up at it as I walked onto the deck, the salty air stinging my lips, the heavy folds of my dress catching at my heels. This was my first and last time of sailing under that crest. When we arrived, I would exchange the swan for a sun of gold, a princess for an empress, a kingdom for a husband.

Wasn't that a good bargain?

I will confess that I did not feel like the perfectly poised beauty that the Golden Empire had ordered when the voyage began. The sky had been a dismal grey on the day we sailed, and soon it deepened to black, a churning mass of clouds roiling and seething above our heads as the first sheets of rain sluiced the ship, dripping through the planks and running down the cheeks of the golden figurehead. I huddled in my cabin, shaken to nausea by the constant swaying, gulping down the medicine that Leah brought and praying for an end. When the storms ended, the heat began, and that was worse, baking my knights in their silver armour and peeling me out of my wools and furs. My hair, limp under the drowsy blanket of the sun, was filled with pins that dug into my scalp and pulled my skin tight, while my body was swathed in silk and satin of brightest gold and white. Ribbons snaked through the bodices of my gowns, stealing my breath and forcing my back straight, their edges glittering with minuscule rubies and diamonds that were as cold as ice against my sweltering skin.

But that was nothing, not to a princess. I leaned on Jasper as I forced myself to walk around the deck, smiling at all the sailors and watching the waves curl white against the curve of the ship. The mountains of Forks slipped away under a film of pale mist, and other lands loomed ahead. We passed slivers of rocky grey coasts, skeletal towns bleached white and scoured clean by the waves, needle-like towers with cities splayed beneath them, lush islands like a blot of green ink against the endless blue. One of the last belonged to the Empire of the Sun, and they sent in tributes for their ruler's bride - ropes of pearls that dangled from my hair to my waist, a scarlet bird that twittered so loudly I had it sent to the other end of the ship, plump fruits that had to have their velvety skins peeled back to expose the glistening innards before I could safely eat it. When I bit one, the wet crunch of it between my teeth burst with sweetness, and I laughed for the first time since the voyage began.

One night, not a week before we were to reach the city of Brandon, the air was heavy, stifling in its heat. I lay in my cabin, curled up on my narrow bed as I watched the flickering light of my lantern, hanging from an oiled rope, the yellow flame dipping with every creak and roll of the ship. Leah and Jasper lay on the floor, a coiled mound of bronze and gold, while Jacob was hunched in the corner facing the door, his fingers curled around the hilt of a knife. All were asleep, and had been so for hours - my sworn knights had slept little on the voyage, and it appeared it was finally catching up to them - but a strange spark of restlessness played through me, fluttering in my chest and making it impossible to slumber. Through the narrow window, a faint breeze drifted through, carrying with it with the tang of salt, the whisper of the hungry sea, the promise of my future.

Suddenly, I was sick of the dim golden light, of the stained wooden boards above my head, of the uncertainty that had been drumming through me for longer than I thought I knew. I drew my sleeping-robe tightly around me as I settled my feet onto the floor, the grainy wood rough against my soles. My knights stirred as I slipped past them, but the endless heat had made them drowsy and slow for the past few days, and I knew that the sleep they so desperately needed would pull them back down soon enough. At least on this ship, surrounded by my father's men, I needed not to rely on them to protect me from daggers in the dark.

Once we reached land though…

I didn't want to think about that.

The sky was thick with stars when I reached the deck, bathing everything in an eerie silvery luminance while the sea breeze blew the hem of my shift around my ankles and gusted my hair in a playful snarl around my face. I smoothed it down, staring at the glimmering waters with a faint feeling of disquiet. Just what had I come out here for? A childish urge…but I wasn't a child any more, and I could not let myself forget it.

"You should be asleep, Princess."

I did not turn around, knowing the identity of the speaker from his heavy tread as much as the warm tones of his voice. "I could not sleep, my lord. It is a hot night."

"That it is, your Highness," Harry agreed, his voice quiet as he came to stand beside me, the starlight brightening his hair to silver, shadows casting lines across his impassive face. "But still, you must try. You will need your rest."

I smiled, but my head was bowed underneath the shroud of my hair as I rested my hands on the balustrade, fingers curling around the edge. The wood was worn smooth and cool under my hands, polished by years of wind and wave. "For my wedding, you mean?"

He hesitated, but only for a moment. "Yes, your Highness. That and more. You will have your coronation, the feasting, the dancing. The Emperor will not be pleased if you collapse when promising your undying devotion to him."

I laughed, and even I heard the bitter edge to it. "I suppose it would not be the romance that minstrels sing of. The golden groom and his crumbling bride."

Harry was silent for a moment, and I breathed in deeply, trying to quell the dizzying rush of recklessness that had swept through me. "You agreed to the match, your Highness. Cha- His Majesty would never have forced any marriage on you that you could not bear."

"I know my duty," I whispered. "And it will be good for my people, won't it? This marriage of mine will make my kingdom great."

"It will greatly improve trade," Harry murmured, folding his hands together, "and it will solidify our alliance with the Golden Empire against Volterra. It…will soothe a great deal of your father's worries, princess."

"And my husband? Will I please him?"

"He choose you, your Highness. We can only assume that he viewed a match with Forks as more desirable than that of any other possible alliances, and as long as you provide him with heirs, I should think you will be a perfectly satisfactory wife and empress."

Alliances. Bloodlines. Positions. That was not the stuff that they spun sonnets and songs out of, but they were the backbones of kingdoms, they let an empire rise and fall. I knew this, and I knew my duty - but a part of me, perhaps some remnant of my mother that had slipped under my skin and curled around my heart, could not help the words that were spoken then, in a voice as small as the winking stars above us.

"Do you think I will be happy?"

Harry turned to look at me then, and there was a sort of weary kindness in those eyes. But there was steel too, the steel of a man who had seen a dozen wars and all their madness, forged a thousand alliances out of swords and coal and fur, who had given everything for his duty and could not see why any should falter in doing their own. The steel of Forks.

"You will be marrying the most powerful man in all the lands, princess. You will be his empress for the sake of your kingdom. Of course you will be happy - you must never be anything but."

* * *

All of the towns and cities of Forks had begun out of necessity, the ancestors of my people migrating together against the cold and the beasts of the woods, their homes spilling outwards as more were birthed and more came. They grew with us, sprawling settlements, narrow streets that twisted and branched into a hundred others, houses of wood and stone piled together like kindling. _Our cities are alive_, my father said, and even in the bitterest months, when the cold blazed and it was too dark to see anything from the walls of our castle, I had understood what he meant.

But the city of Brandon was very different. I caught my first glimpse of it from the tiny window in my cabin, a line of white against the green-blue of the sea. I pressed my face to the glass, watching in amazement as we drew closer and the features became clearer - the gleaming white walls, the lighthouse, glittering with glass and the shine of its lamp, the buildings, square and squat, perfectly shaped like the painted boxes I played with as an infant. It was all so measured and spaced, sparkling clean as if the grey-green slime from water and rot that had slithered through the other harbour cities we had seen did not dare risk the wrath of those that had built such a sight. It was meticulously neat, the city of Brandon, and relentlessly organised…but it did not seem quite real, like a painted ball-mask in comparison to the living faces of Forks' cities. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

"They plan all of their cities," Marie whispered to me as we stood waiting for the gangplank to be lowered. Already, crowds had gathered by the edge of the water, their faces canted up towards the ship, their hands stretched as they called out to us. I could vaguely make out the words - cries of welcome, of well-wishing, of desire to see their new Empress. They wouldn't, though. Marie and Harry had insisted on my wearing a long-sleeved dress of white satin, a golden veil both protecting my skin and obscuring my face. It was traditional for the bride to only show her face at her wedding day, apparently, with only a select few viewing her features before then. I wondered if the male consorts of the Golden Empresses had to do it as well.

"You may think it to be rather impractical, and you'd be right, but they do insist on it. They design it, make allowances for a bigger population than the current one, and leave space for expansion, and then build it - all perfectly matched, of course. Naturally, there are events that they can't plan for, and sometimes they go to waste, but it is a useful control method, I suppose. Of course, the poorer areas don't get planned for, and they are a great deal more unsightly, but the imperial court will never have to see them, will they?"

If she had wanted me to reply, I never had the chance to, for the gangplank was lowered, and the process of leaving the ship that had borne me to safety had begun. Others went before me, carrying trunks of my belongings, the leather peeling and faded after weeks of being stored in the dank quarters of the ship, while my sworn knights gathered around me, staring in awe at this new life we had come to.

My expression might have been hidden by the filmy veil, but we had known each other too long to be able to hide like that. Jacob didn't say anything, but he squeezed my hand when no one else was looking. Leah was too busy staring fiercely at the crowds below us, daring them to say anything. I had heard that there were no women who fought in the south. Judging from the incredulous stares some of the crowd were directing at her armour and sword, the rumours had been correct. How…strange.

At last, we left the ship, Jasper behind me and Jacob in front, the plank swaying over the yellowish foam as we touched the ground. I glanced over my shoulder, catching a last glimpse of the smiling figurehead, my mother's features cast into rusted bronze and left to hang for eternity. The reflective glint of the sunlight was too bright for me to make out that smile now. I hoped that wasn't an omen.

The party awaiting for me at the bottom of the plank was certainly grander than the one that had seen me off. There were about fifty men awaiting me, all richly dressed, some armoured, some in vibrant robes, some in other forms of fashion that I had not seen before, with hose and sashes and jewelled doublets that were a world away from the clothing of Forks. As I stepped off the creaking plank, they all bowed deeply from the waist, their heads almost touching the ground.

"Your Royal Highness," one intoned, "we welcome you, to the glorious city of Brandon, in the name of his Royal and Imperial Highness, High Prince Edward, soon to be His Royal and Imperial Highness, Edward III, Emperor of the Golden Lands, of Plaskett, of the Isles of Cynthia-"

The stream of titles continued, but I felt my attention wandering away from the speaker, a balding man in his forties, and found myself staring at the men who had accompanied him instead. I remembered what Marie had told me - I could trust none of these people, at least not without ascertaining their motives first. Were there any expressions on their faces that might give them away, any clues that could tell me anything about their characters? It was difficult to tell. I let my gaze drift from one man to another - only to feel a sudden lance of shock as I saw the expression one of the men was directing at me.

It was difficult to tell his age, this man with pale blond hair knotted back and armour without any emblem or colours to show his allegiance. But his eyes were dark and fierce, and they were fixated on me with such an intensity that I fought the urge to recoil. I had never seen this man before in my life, and he had not seen my face at all - but there was an almost animalistic look in his eye, tempered by a coldness that made me shiver. I did not know who he was, but his very presence sent chills down my spine, and I was glad that there were so many other people present to stand between myself and him.

At last, the talks concluded, and a litter was brought forth, with gauzy white curtains and litter-bearers dressed in gold. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes - in Forks, we did not garb everything in sight with blue and silver, but I had to remember that the Empire of the Sun was very different to the northern lands - and climbed in, unsurprised when my grandmother insisted on riding with me. In fact, I was grateful. There were none who knew the southern people better than Marie, and I suddenly felt a pressing need to gain some knowledge about them.

"Grandmother, did you see that knight? The blond one, with no colours?"

"Ah," Marie murmured, leaning back on the padded cushions and drawing the curtains around us with a twitch of her gnarled hands. "Him. Yes, child, I saw him. It's been some time since we last laid eyes on one another, but I do not forget many knights - particularly those from my own lands."

I sat up straight, a quiver of surprise running through me. "He is from Phoenix?"

Marie's lips pressed together in a thin line. "Of course. That was Sir James, child, one of the knights who escorted your mother to Forks when she wed your father. One of the youngest knights my lands produced - but certainly he was very, very good on the battlefield. Won many a tournament, if I remember correctly. Most of the knights who stayed with her until her death either took up service with your father or returned to Phoenix, but Sir James chose instead to go to the Golden Empire. Why, I cannot fathom - I had expected him to go to Volterra."

"But…but you don't trust the Volturi."

"Yes, so I suppose I should be glad that such a skilled knight chose instead to go to a steadfast ally instead, should I not? But I thought their temperaments suited him better and Renee-"

She stopped abruptly, shaking her head. "But that was years ago child, and I tire of the past. Come - sit up properly girl, and practice your accent. It's so atrocious it'll be a wonder if your imperial husband will be able to work out when you've said your vows…"

* * *

But as magnificent as Brandon was, the Golden City outshone it as the sun to a tallow candle.

It took us three days to reach it, even with the hard riding that felt as if my flesh was being jolted from my bones with every bounce of the litter. The roads of the Empire had been built generations ago, by an emperor in a rare reign of peace, and they were wide and smooth, nothing like the narrow, twisting pathways that one followed through Forks - but still not enough.

Marie complained incessantly, and Jacob and Leah grew more snappish by the day, but I said nothing. I wasn't sure if I should be angered or grateful by the delay, but it was out of my hands. _A princess never complains._

Besides, it wasn't as if I lacked for amusement. The large number of escorts that had been provided for me harkened back to the time when the Golden Empire was embroiled in war, both with other kingdoms and its own overly ambitious providences, when a kidnapped empress would be more valuable than all the gold in the world. In these times of peace, only tradition required such a large guard, and convention was quickly discarded in favour of whiling the time away. Many a knight slowed his pace by the litter to speak to me of my new homeland, amuse me with witty jests or boastful story or pass me some sweetmeats. Marie seemed unhappy by this, even when they offered her favourite, sugar ribbon.

"You are too kind, Sir James," she told the knight, her prune-like lips pursed. "But Her Royal Highness has a delicate constitution and truly, this journey has been long and hard for us all. You should save it for yourself instead."

Sir James shook his head, holding out the pretty sweet to me. "No true knight should ever take a comfort that a lady has not been offered, Your Grace. I am afraid I could not offer a gift worthy of Her Highness for the wedding, and it would gladden my heart immensely if she would accept this token, humble as it is, as a tribute of my thanks for her safe arrival."

I smiled, though he could not see it behind my veil, and took the sweet, ignoring Marie's glare. "You are too kind, Sir James, though I thank you gladly for it."

The sweet was delicious and I finished it quickly, stealing a guilty glance at Jacob and Leah, who had ridden tirelessly behind my litter without any such offerings for themselves. Jasper rode at the head of the procession, ostensibly to keep an eye out for the party that would welcome us into the city. But I knew better. Jasper had been thirteen when he saved my father's life in the Battle of Uley, becoming one of the youngest knights in history shortly afterwards. One didn't get to that position without a healthy dose of paranoia, and he knew full well that even in supposedly friendly lands, one's guard could never be fully let down.

But that was a grim topic, and I let my mind drift away to more banal matters, namely the desire to _do _something. I grew weary of ever travelling by the litter, stretching my legs only for the short rests our escort allowed on the way to the city. Marie enjoyed being carried about in the sumptuous construction, but princesses of Forks rarely bothered with such inanities. We rode, our mounts the strongest and hardiest horses in all the kingdoms, often bearing the banner of the present monarch if they rode with us. I knew that I had to leave such customs behind with my new marriage…but I was not empress yet, and the thought of being trapped in that cramped, stuffy tent for a moment longer was almost unbearable. I was beginning to feel strangely heavy, my limbs leaden and my head spinning. It would do me good to ride in the fresh air.

Marie was enraged when I asked the lead escort, Lord Garrett, if I could ride; she caught the scandalised looks several of the knights were exchanging and no doubt was seeing my reputation plummet as I spoke, especially when I made it clear I did not care if it was side-saddle or not. But several of the knights had brought spare mounts, in order to alternate between the two during heavy riding, though I was surprised to see Sir James step forward in order to offer me the use of his extra mare.

"She's rather worn-down," he said with an almost apologetic smile, indicating a drooping grey with large, frightened eyes, "but she'll go gently, so long as you use a firm hand to guide her."

I smiled gratefully at him, though I soon discovered that the mare went so slowly that it would have been almost as fast to ride in the litter. Still, I could not fault him for wishing to keep his future empress on a safely slow mount, especially when he was one of the few knights not giving me strange looks after my decision to ride. I ignored those disturbed expressions, remembering how they had stared in such askance at Leah.

I agreed to this marriage to aid my people. Do not think that I will abandon every part of myself that is Forksian, just so you may adore me as your golden queen. My father sent a princess, not a porcelain doll for you to paint in your image of what an empress should be.

Also, while I would not have admitted it to even my sworn knights, I was still feeling rather strange. My eyes were drooping, my stomach felt as if a thousand live snakes were twisting and slithering inside me, and the heat, once nothing more than an irritant, was pressing down in a smothering wave. My hands tightened around the reins of the horse, but I refused to speak of it. Perhaps the decision to ride the horse in the first place was foolish, but Marie's snide remarks would be unbearable if I faintly requested to return to the litter.

But my vision was swimming now, and things were changing…I saw a glint of white against the glare of the sun, enormous walls of gleaming stone rising in front of glistening spires, curving roofs that shone bronze in the heavy sunlight, the shadows of guards patrolling the top of the walls. _We've reached the city _I realised, but the sight was blurring and waxing my eyes, and there was the annoying blare of a horn-

_They've come._

I raised my head, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth. There was a cloud of dust rising - dust or sparks - and within it, the gleam of mail, the glint of gold as a banner snapped in the wind, the thunder of hooves. Riders were forming out of the dust…no, no they had to emerging from it, men in ornate armour, too numerous to count, and at their head, a man with shining golden eyes…

I swayed in the saddle, distantly hearing alarmed shouts, but still caught in that mesmerising gaze, barely noting the look of horror on his stunning face as he reached for me…

Then nothing.

* * *

When I came around, it was to find myself lying on a pile of cushions, a sea of anxious faces peering down at me. No sooner had my eyes fluttered open when I heard a shout of _"She's awake!" _and Jacob and Leah came suddenly into view, their eyes glittering with both anger and fear.

I licked my lips, tasting the dryness. "What happened?"

"You _fainted_," Leah spat, one hand on her sword hilt as her eyes flickered about nervously. "You nearly fell from your horse - you could have been killed!"

I felt a cool touch on my hand, but ignored it in favour of shaking my head, still feeling slightly dizzy. "I fell? But…What…I don't remember…"

"She is not hurt?"

This voice was smooth, velvety, like liquid honey poured into my ear. I twisted to see the speaker, and felt my jaw drop even as I did so.

It was a man of about eighteen, with messy bronze hair, gleaming armour and a crooked, if slightly diminished grin, staring down at me with a curious expression in his eyes. But those things I barely noticed in the second I stared at him. Instead, my eyes focused on the embroidered sun on his tabard, the circlet of pale gold around his brow, the glittering topaz of his eyes.

"You're…You are…"

"Your Royal Highness," Jasper said quietly, his head bowed in respect as he kneeled, my own knight humbled before this stranger. "This is the man who saved you from your fall."

"It was nothing," the man said, coming to kneel next to me. His features, as smooth and perfect as the marble statues in the city of Brandon, were dazzling to behold, but it was the look of kindness in his eyes that caught me off guard. The face of a god, but the eyes of a mortal…

But then…wasn't that the very description to befit an emperor?

"Thank-you," I whispered, feeling all the planned speeches with their pretty words dry up in my mouth. "It is good to meet you at last…Prince Edward."

**And so Bella finds herself off to a less than auspicious start - but at least Edward gets to introduce himself in a suitably heroic fashion :) . See you next time, and please review!**


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